


Romance Me

by Okumen



Category: Hunter X Hunter
Genre: M/M, machi is minor and paku in it for a fraction, minor hisoka mention as well
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-22
Updated: 2018-10-22
Packaged: 2019-08-05 19:56:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,374
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16374056
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Okumen/pseuds/Okumen
Summary: Feitan is definitely not a romantic person.





	Romance Me

**Author's Note:**

> Written in the morning while I should have prepared for work. I'll have to do it in a rush but as if I don't do that most days either way... I am not a morning person, I hate mornings, but this was a fun morning for once.
> 
> Anyway, this is my first foray into writing HxH, the characters are unfamiliar, it's a bit of a challenge to balance Feitan's speech, and I don't usually write in present tense so if I've accidentally changed the tense somewhere, that not being fixed has to do with this fic not being beta'd. I just wanted to get it out of my system so I wouldn't get itchy fingers during work.

Machi is giving them weird looks and it’s not like she can be blamed for it. Feitan quietly stares back at her until she looks away and moves her attention back to her needles. He moves his quiet stare over to their leader, knowing that he’s the main reason that she was staring at all. Not that Feitan was stopping him, so it was partially his fault as well.

Chrollo holds Feitan’s hand in his, and though his attention is focused on the book in his lap, his lips are pressed to Feitan’s skin. The touch is making Feitan’s skin tingle lightly, pleasantly, which is why he has not yet retracted his hand. Instead he keeps flipping through his own book, while allowing Chrollo to direct haphazard attention toward him.

He glances up when Machi’s phone rings, and he feels Chrollo’s attention shift with the stilling of his lips. They can hear Machi’s annoyance build, and it’s easy to tell that she’s talking to Hisoka. Feitan’s nose wrinkles behind his bandana— he’s not too keen on thinking about Hisoka. When Machi hangs up, Chrollo’s voice is pressed into Feitan’s skin, a buzzing sensation, when the man acknowledges Machi’s words that she had to go strangle an idiot— Feitan can feel the slight smile against his wrist. They both know that Machi isn’t truly going to strangle Hisoka, which is truly unfortunate, except if she really had a disagreement with him they wouldn’t be seriously fighting nonetheless. And if they did, Feitan would have to punish them for breaking one of Chrollo’s rules, not that he’d mind at all. Machi looks over her shoulder as she is retreating, she scrunches up her face in a grimace as if she can sense Feitan’s thoughts, and he tugs his bandana down to stick his tongue out at her. He can barely see her roll her eyes and turn away past Chrollo’s head when the man takes the opportunity to kiss him on the mouth.

“You not eager before,” Feitan points out, and Chrollo smiles and bends in for another kiss. “I felt you shudder,” he said, voice soft as silk, and Feitan thought of the sensation of Chrollo’s voice vibrating against his skin. Perhaps he had shuddered. “I fuck you here, Paku find us,” he pointed out. She would be back soon, had only stepped out for a little while to get something to eat. Chrollo’s eyes were smiling as much as his lips were, his breath brushing Feitan’s lips, his hand still clasping Feitan’s. “No fucking, for now. Just indulge me a little, until she returns?”

Feitan regards his leader, regards the red marks on his wrist. “Boss try eating me?” he asks with an arched eyebrow. Chrollo huffs out a breath of amusement at the words, and his gaze shifts in a glance toward the wrist. Marks after lips and teeth mar the pale skin, a threat of bruises blooming clear underneath some of them. “Well,” he says, voice smooth and deliberate. He pulls back to press his lips back to Feitan’s arm, placing another kiss to it. “you are very tasty, after all. It’s only natural I would want you to myself in every way.”

“If Boss eat me, I only turn to shit,” Feitan says, unimpressed with everything but the way the words brushes across his skin. He feels Chrollo’s lips purse in a pout, and it lingers for a few moments as he looks Feitan in the eyes. The curve of Feitan’s own lips, hidden behind his bandana once more, is as unimpressed as his voice and his eyes are. “You certainly know how to be romantic,” Chrollo murmurs, and Feitan huffs. “No need being romantic. Boss let me fuck anyway.” He feels Chrollo’s lips twitch against his wrist. “Perhaps it would be nice, once in a while, if you tried?”

“We no that kind of people.” Chrollo sighs, a soft whisper of breath that made Feitan shudder— again, he vaguely notes. “I’m merely pointing out, maybe you could give it a shot, just once.”

Feitan frowns. Does it mean that Chrollo wants him to be more romantic? But Feitan isn’t romantic, never has been. He knows violence well, he knows starvation, knows desperation, knows death. But romance is a foreign concept to him. If Chrollo wants to be with someone romantic, he should go for literally anyone else in the Troupe, because Feitan is the least prone to things like spontaneous displays of affection of them all. He presses his lips together, regards his boss and his words. Give it a shot? Feitan can’t find the words, though he searches for something to say. He feels fingers brush his skin, and lips trail a path. Chrollo giving him time to think about his words. Frustration grows inside Feitan, but he presses it back down, because he’s not sure if it’s frustration with himself, or with Chrollo. “Your...” He feels, sees, how Chrollo stills, his gaze moving up to Feitan’s face. “fingers are... long..” He frowns. “Cool.” Chrollo’s lips twitches, hidden behind Feitan’s skin. “Eyes are...” His frown deepens even more, turns into a glare. “This stupid. Boss read too many different books,” he concludes, and he feels Chrollo’s smile against his skin. “I think you’re doing great.” And he urges, “What are my eyes, Fei?”

Feitan huffs, annoyance building again. “I no know, grey?” His face twitches, Chrollo’s lips are pressing against his skin still. “Like, um, stone, or,” he considers, and then finally settles on, “my.”

He can feel how Chrollo’s movements cease, a smile half-way formed frozen on his lips, and he glares at his leader. “I told I no romantic, why insist anyway? Your own fault being disappointed.”

Chrollo removes his lips from Feitan’s wrist, and he lets his hand slip out of his grip, stands up. Done, then. He shifts to stand in front of Feitan, hands placed on either side of him, and Feitan closes one eye, blinks with the other, when the press of Chrollo’s lips touch the side of his face, just near his eye. “No,” he says softly. He moves the kiss along Feitan’s skin, leaves a trail of tingles lingering behind, until he reaches the corner of Feitan’s mouth and finally gives him a firm, deep, long kiss on the mouth. So long that Feitan and Chrollo breathe in through their noses, loud in the silence of their current hideout. Chrollo’s eyes are half-lidded, when he breaks the kiss. “That was actually very romantic indeed, Fei. You did really well.”

Feitan frowns, and with the hand not holding his book he grasps Chrollo’s coat to pull him closer, and there is a thrumming snarl in his voice that evidently goes right to Chrollo’s cock, considering the way he shudders and his eyes glaze over. “Boss idiot, I fuck hard later.” Chrollo kisses him again, slips a hand into Feitan’s hair, and when he breaks it his lips glisten. “You really are very romantic,” he murmurs, fingers curling around dark strands of hair. “You are very talented at romancing me, Fei, even if you don’t realize it.”

“Really idiot,” Feitan huffs, and he puts a hand to Chrollo’s shoulder, pushes him away. “Paku return,” he points out, and Chrollo hums in acknowledgement, sliping back to sit beside Feitan just before Pakunoda enters the room, though he has once more clasped Feitan’s hand in his. Pakunoda’s gaze briefly goes down to their interlocked fingers, to the thumb brushing over knuckles, and her gaze lingers on them for just a few moments. But she spends plenty of time around Chrollo, and she knows more than most, about the unfocused displays of affection, and she averts her gaze before Feitan has to glare at her as he did Machi.

Feitan can feel both Chrollo’s smile and his gaze, and he glances toward him, question unspoken is his gaze. Chrollo nibbles light and quick at Feitan’t skin, and he mouths what feels suspiciously like, _the most romantic_ against Feitan’s wrist. Feitan buzzes quiet annoyance at him, but pulls his bandana up to cover the blush that has crawled across his skin like a fire hard to endure. _Stupid, idiot boss, don’t know what he is talking about._


End file.
